


Over the Phone

by lionessvalenti



Category: White Collar
Genre: F/M, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-08
Updated: 2010-05-08
Packaged: 2017-10-09 09:02:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/85479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionessvalenti/pseuds/lionessvalenti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Late night in DC, Peter's alone in a hotel room with pay-per-view. Until his wife calls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over the Phone

Peter stifled a yawn as he unlocked the hotel room door. The day at the conference had been long and boring, and Peter hated DC. As glad as he was to be back at the hotel, with only one more day of the conference ahead of him, he really wanted to be home. He wanted to open the door and be greeted excitedly by Satchmo and kissed by Elizabeth. He wanted to help her make dinner while listening to the game on television.

He thought about barbecue chicken or meatloaf. He looked down at his sack of greasy burgers and six pack of beer. For some reason, Neal popped in his head, shaming him for getting fast food when there was a whole city of fine dining out there. Like most times when Peter thought of what Neal would say in a situation, he put it out of his mind.

Peter changed out of his suit and flopped onto the bed, which was at least comfortable. He popped open one of his beers, as he reached around for the remote. He defaulted to ESPN, but it was a hockey game he didn't care about. He sighed and started flipping through the channels, hoping to find a movie or a rerun. Anything to occupy his mind.

Halfway through his beer, Peter found himself browsing through the pay-per-view. He narrowed his eyes and, against his better judgment, curiously flipped through the adult section. He glanced over the covers, but nothing stood out to him. They were all the same, with girls who looked too young, draped over each other and just barely covering their tits.

He frowned. He hadn't watched porn in probably six or seven years, when he and Elizabeth used to watch together. It was fun at the time, but they had grown out of it. There wasn't any specific reason to why they stopped, no conscious moment when they decided not to watch anymore.

Then again, he was alone in a hotel room, in a city he didn't like. It could be a lot worse, though Peter knew he wouldn't do any of those hypothetical worse things. There was a big difference between that and watching a dirty movie.

"Screw it," Peter muttered and selected the first movie he saw.

He finished off his beer through the opening credits, and opened up another one. The two girls on the screen kissed and touched each other's breasts. Peter furrowed his brow. What was so appealing about this again? He remembered this being a lot more enjoyable when he watched with El. Maybe she was the one who made it better. The naked women were nice, sure, but he could only handle so much exaggerated, breathy moaning, and that was just in the first ten minutes.

Peter started when his cell phone rang, and he spilled some beer on his hand. He paused the movie and jumped off the bed to grab his phone out of his coat pocket. Elizabeth. Of course.

"Hey, honey," he answered, trying not to sound anxious.

"Hey," she replied. "Are you back at the hotel?"

Peter rubbed his hand over his face. "Yeah, for about half an hour or so. I grabbed some burgers and beer and brought 'em back here. What are you up to?"

"Sounds homey," Elizabeth said, laughter in her voice. "I'm sitting on the couch, trying to find something on TV. It's slim pickin's."

"Tell me about it," Peter replied, sitting down on the bed, right on the remote. The movie started up again, right as a one of the girls cried out. It probably seemed louder than it actually was, but it was loud enough. "Shit! Shit, shit, shit."

Elizabeth laughed. "Peter, are you watching porn?"

"No! No, why would I--" He stopped, finally grabbing the remote and pausing the movie again. He sighed, knowing it was pointless to lie to her. He could try, but it never worked. "Yes."

There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment, and Peter's stomach twisted.

"Is it any good?" she asked.

Peter laughed, relieved. "Not really."

She hummed. "Put it back on. Tell me about it."

"Tell you about it? There's nothing to tell. It's... porn. There's a couple of girls and they're... touching each other."

"Oh, come on, honey. Humor me. What do the girls look like?" Elizabeth asked.

Peter took a deep breath and settled back on the bed, letting himself relax. He pressed play and the movie resumed. "There's a blonde, and a brunette."

"Tell me more. What about their breasts? Fake?"

"Yeah, both of them." He laughed. "The brunette's are really obvious, but the blonde's are better. The... the brunette's going down on the blonde."

"Is she pretty? The blonde?" Elizabeth asked.

"Is that a trick question?"

"She's a girl in a porno, honey. I'm not exactly threatened. Besides, I'm not there. You have to be my eyes."

Peter smiled and licked his lower lip. "She's pretty enough. They both are."

"Tell me more. Be detailed. Specific."

"She's tan. Tans in her underwear. Her... she's shaved. Completely."

Elizabeth paused, then asked. "Do you like that?"

This wasn't a trick question, but it was an honest one, and Peter smiled. She was such a liar; she wasn't completely not-threatened, even when she knew (she had to know) he would take her over any woman, any day, pubic hair, and all.

"It's all right," he replied honestly.

"Would you like it if I... did that? Shaved, or waxed it all off?"

Peter laughed. "El, I don't think it would make a difference one way or another. There isn't anything you could do, or not do, that would make me want to sleep with you anymore than I already do."

"You know, you can be pretty slick when you want to," Elizabeth said, and Peter could just picture her pleased smile.

"You're easy on me."

"That, too. If I weren't, I'd make you actually answer the question."

Peter slid his hand down the front of his pajama pants. Between the movie in front of him, where the girls were fingering each other, El's voice in his ear, and thinking about her cunt (hairless or with hair, it didn't matter), he couldn't quite help himself. "And I appreciate that," he said.

"What happened? Your voice changed."

"I shoved my hand down my pants," he replied in a quick mumble, feeling heat rise up the back of his neck. There was always going to be an embarrassment factor in masturbation for him, even when he knew it was okay.

"Tell me about that," Elizabeth said, interest perking up in her voice. "How hard are you?"

"Pretty hard," he admitted, squeezing his cock. "Enough."

"Pre-come?"

"Some." He swiped his thumb across the head, smearing the pre-come across it. "It feels good. What are you doing?"

"Taking off my underwear," Elizabeth replied. "I'm wearing one of your shirts. It's unbuttoned about halfway."

Peter grinned, pulling his dick out of his pants. "You look better in them than I do."

"You look pretty good in them," she said, half moaning. "I wish you were here. I want you to fuck me so bad."

He closed his eyes. It was almost painful to be away from her, knowing she was this turned on already, probably biting her lower lip and tugging at one of her nipples through the shirt. "I want to be there, too," he said.

On the television, one of the girls came, screaming and gasping, and Peter had forgotten that the porn was still going. He thought about turning it off, but his options were putting down the phone, or putting down his cock, and neither was going to happen.

"What would you do if you were here?"

"I'd fuck you. I would hold you down at the wrists and I'd pound into you." Elizabeth whimpered in Peter's ear, and his cock twitched in his hand. "Are you touching yourself?" he asked.

Elizabeth was quiet for a moment, the whispered, "Yes."

"Stop. Right now."

"Peter... fuck, oh, fuck. Now what?"

He dropped his voice down lower, just above a whisper. "Listen."

She whimpered again, and it sounded almost like Peter's name, but it was lost in the noise.

"I would fuck you raw, and you'd love it," Peter said, jerking hard on his dick, thinking more about Elizabeth writhing on the couch, doing anything to keep her hand from reaching for her clit, than the words coming out of his mouth. "When I was done, I'd pull out, and I'd come all over your cunt and your legs."

"Shit," Elizabeth mumbled.

Peter laughed. "I'd lean down and I'd start licking, first your thighs, cleaning up my mess, then I'd lick out your pussy." He wasn't even sure where this was coming from, he wasn't the kind of person who said _pussy_. "Tell me what's happening, El."

"I keep -- keep, I can't stay still. Fuck me, Peter. Oh, god. I want to come." He could barely make out her words, her breath was so ragged. Her bottom lip was probably swollen and red from the way she way she bit down on it. "My vagina -- fuck, my whole cunt, it's twitching and hot and I want to fucking come."

"Not yet," Peter replied. He stroked faster, his thumb digging into the head of his cock, right in the slit. He dropped the phone as his balls tightened and released. With his newly freed hand, he pressed down hard on his pubic bone. He rocked into his hand, wet with come, and he moaned. He could hear the tinny sound of Elizabeth asking for him through the phone.

Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away and picked the phone up again. "Honey?"

"Peter? Did you come?"

"Everywhere. Dropped the phone."

"Can I come yet?"

He grinned, still stroking his cock, though it was beginning to soften, it still felt fantastic. "What are you doing with your hand?"

She whined, a high pitched sound. "Touching my breast. My tit. It's... it's making it worse, but I can't stop. Please, please let me get my clit. Let me... please."

"I love hearing you beg," Peter said. "Do you think you could come just from touching your nipple?"

"Fuck! Peter, god, yes, I could. Right now, I could. Is that what you want me to do?"

He grinned. "No, you can touch your clit, but don't come."

"I can't," she said, and paused to take a deep breath. "I can't, I'll come."

Peter pulled on his dick, willing it to get hard again, though he knew it wouldn't. Not this soon. The image of Elizabeth that far gone made him wish he hadn't come yet. He wanted to come to _that_.

"Okay, baby," he said, "you can come on one condition."

"Anything. Oh, god, it _hurts_."

"You have to say my name when you do."

"Oh, honey, I love you," she said, though the 'you' trailed off into a whine, growing higher and higher until -- "Peter! _Peter_! Oh, _fuck_. Fuck, oh..."

Peter laughed, and brought his come-sticky hand to his mouth and licked at it. "I love you, too."

Elizabeth heaved a sigh, and still breathless, said, "That was amazing."

"When I get home, we're going to play out that fantasy," he said.

"Hell yes we are. When we get off the phone, cause I know you're going to fall asleep soon, I'm going to go upstairs and think about that while I get myself off two or three more times. Fuck myself on that new vibrator you got me."

"And that will be something for me to think about tomorrow in the shower." Peter chuckled. He glanced up at the television. The two girls were engaged in an sixty-nine, but from where he sat, it looked staged and ridiculous. He shoved the phone between his ear and shoulder, and reached for the remote. He turned the television off.


End file.
